


A Will Of My Own

by XxunsocialBxtchxX



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bro is freeeee, Guardiancest, M/M, Mama bear dirk, Past Child Abuse, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Referenced suicidal thoughts and actions, Self Harm, Slow Updates, Starvation, Stridercest - Freeform, Suicide Attempt, This shifts from second to third person, Vomiting, bro is guilty, but I update I promiae, depressing chapters are almost done yeet, hal is a cinnamon bun, past body and mind possession, references to past noncon, this story gets happy I swear, whoa that's new oops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2018-12-24 01:30:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12002103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxunsocialBxtchxX/pseuds/XxunsocialBxtchxX
Summary: The game is a lot more trouble than its worth. First, Bro is back. Second, sburb is still effecting your daily lives. Third, pretty much your whole household is one ginormous mess.It also turns out that your Bro is actually really emotional. More so than not.(Posted on Wattpad)





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Geez I'm so sorry if this is shitty, this is MAJOR OOC, IF THIS BOTHERS YOU I APOLOGIZE. PLEASE TAKE ANOTHER LOOK AT THE TAGS, THEY ARE IMPORTANT TO THESE FIRST FEW CHAPTERS. TRIGGER WARNINGS.

The apartment was dead silent. 

It was always like that, but somehow this silence was different. Way different than ever before. 

He took a while to gain the strength actually open his eyes again. It took even longer to manage to try sitting up. His mind was at peace, and he didn't wake up with a headache this morning, which was a strange feeling. 

It was way too quiet. It was way too clean. 

In a random surge of panic, he shot up onto his feet. He stumbled around clumsily, slamming open the only bedroom door loudly. Empty. 

Oh. 

Oh god. 

"D-Dave?!" 

No answer. Just the echo of his raspy voice shot back at him, taunting him. 

'Dave is gone, you selfish motherfucker. You did this.' 

\------

Cal is gone. 

Your smuppets are gone too. Burned in a fit of fear. What if Cal was possessing one? What if he's still here? What if-

No. He needs to stop thinking about it. His stomach rumbled, reminding him of his hunger. He knew he didn't own any food right now, and Cal always told him when he can eat, and when to throw out the food. He always told him when to start a strife too. 

But right now, his mind was empty. It occurred to Derrick, that he had no idea what to do in a situation like this. He KNEW what he wanted. Bro realizes that he can actually THINK. Without voices clouding his mind, telling him and controlling his actions without his will. Bro HAS a willpower.

He knows what wants, and what he wants right now is some food. He couldn't have it though. He can't. Not when no one is here to tell him if he's even allowed to go and buy his food. No one is here to tell him how much he can spend, or what to buy. 

Years ago, he would have laughed at himself and called this stupid. 

But Cal said to do what he's told to do, or else. That 'or else' and it's possibilities were endless. It always frightened Derrick, since Cal can always control his actions and make him badly injure Dave in a strife. He had no options but to do it. 

After so many years, he grew afraid of what anybody could do if he didn't do what they asked. So he easily submitted himself, unless Cal made him disobey Dave when Dave would beg for the strifes to stop. 

 

'No can do, little man.'

\-------

To say that David was furious was an understatement. 

How dare that bastard hurt his own son?!

Dave had tried to stop him, but David was like a bull that had been taunted with a red sheet. 

It has been around a month or two since Dave came to live with them. Dave was always very jumpy, and he used to freak out when David and Dirk would engage in a mini strife. It took a while to lure Dave out of his shell. 

But right now, Dave had finally told David what had happened. 

David is absolutely livid. 

That all lead to David knocking on the door of a very silent apartment. Dave said that Bro never made much noise, so he expected this. 

No answer. 

"Open this goddamn door!" 

Again, no answer. 

He huffed, pushing his katana down the doors crack and breaking the lock.  He pushed open the door, stepping inside. His anger slowly dissipated, but some still remained. 

Making his way around a small pile of ashes on the floor, he found the futon. Buried under the blanket was a slim figure, sleeping deeply. He glanced around the room, which seemed to be collecting dust. The television was on mute, figures flashing  across the screen. 

He used the tip of the katana to nudge the person awake, and blinked at the sight of honey colored eyes slowly cracking open to peek up at him. They were dulled, confusion soon settling to gratitude. The figure shifted, and David immediately nudged him again. "Get up." 

David started when the man shot up into a sitting position quickly, grabbing the tip of David's katana. Blood dripped down the gloveless pale hand, trickling down the thin pale arm. 

Golden eyes pierced David's own mahogany through his pair of aviators, begging to be ended off. 

"God, you're pathetic. You made Dave suffer the same way you're suffering right now, for 13 years." David heard himself saying. 

The katana was withdrawn, leaving Bros hand to fall limp at his side. Bro stared down at the futon, and David continued speaking. "He felt useless. He wondered what he had done wrong. Why are you having a pity party? Because you have no one to beat up anymore?" He asked lowly. 

He gained no answer. 

"Speak, goddammit!" He yelled, watching Bros shoulders tense. 

"No."

Bros voice was scratchy, and he stared at the futon. "I'm not having a pity party." He whispered. 

"Oh really? What do you call this? Sitting down doing nothing? You practically fucking begged me to drive my katana through your throat." David hissed, and Bro stared at him. Bro looked conflicted, face twisting into an unknown emotion before snapping back into a poker face. 

"Why aren't you fucking talking?" David asked, grabbing the collar of Bros t-shirt. Bros hand twitched, as if wanting to pry David's hand off, but he didn't move otherwise. 

David scoffed, dropping the shorter male and letting him slump again. "You should apologize to Dave, or else."

David jumped a bit as Bros head snapped up, golden eyes panicked. "Is that what makes you scared? The oldest bribe in the book?" He chuckled, watching Bros shoulders hunch up. 

The door burst open, and Dave ran in with Dirk casually strolling in calmly. 

"Sorry!" Bro blurted out, and David frowned. He hadn't actually expected that to work. Dave looked around, at the ashes and lack of puppets. 

"Where's little Cal?" Dave asked Bro, and Bro flinched. He didn't answer. He doesn't seem to talk unless someone tells him to.  

"Bro, answer me." 

"He's not here." He rasped out immediately. "He's gone. The voices are gone. But he's still here. I can't- I can't take any chances. What if-" 

"Dude, chill." Dirk spoke up, making Bro immediately shut up. Dave seemed to notice the pattern, and he walked to his bro. "Stand up, and go take a shower." He commanded. Bro scrambled off the futon, and down the hall he went.  

David cast a curious glance toward Dave, who collapsed on the futon. "What was that?" 

"Cal was supposed to be the puppet, not Bro." Is all Dave muttered. "God he's such a fucking asshole. I only came to make sure you didn't murder him." Dave sighed out, and Dirk sat beside him. David crossed his arms, tapping his foot. 

"We need answers, and only your Bro seems to have them." Dirk said lowly. Dave nodded. 

"I know."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So soon? What? Yeah I know ( ': 
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter may seem rushed but I took my time so I don't know what's up? Ehehe 
> 
> //sweats
> 
>  
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: UNINTENDED SUICIDE ATTEMPT, SELF HARM, MENTIONED PAST RAPE, DON'T WORRY ROXANNE ISN'T ACTUALLY SUPPOSED TO BE AN ANTAGONIST, THEY WERE TEENAGERS AND SHE WAS DRUNK WHILE GETTING OVER A PAST ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP 
> 
>  
> 
> please tell me my typos, im bad at finding those

Bro stalled as much as he could, shivering and dripping with water by the time he shuffled out of the bathroom, clutching a dry towel like it was his favorite teddy bear.   
  
He stared down at the floor, clutching the towel tighter when he saw the red of Daves shoes reached his peripheral vision.   
  
"You fucked up, Bro." Dave hissed, enjoying the way Bro's muscles tensed up under the hateful voice. "You fucked up bad, and here you are fucking wanting pity. Tell me, Bro. Why are you so different just because me and Dirk won Sburb? What's so different now?"   
  
Bro remained silent, his knuckles white and he glared at his feet.   
  
"Bro, what's so fucking different?!"   
  
"Dave I don't think-"   
  
"Shut up, Dirk. Now answer me Bro. Tell me the truth."   
  
Bro gulped, Adam's apple bobbing slowly. "I can't- I don't... Cal." He murmured. His mind was fuzzy, the details were blurred and suddenly he felt pressured.   "Cal, it was Cal. I can't- I couldn't think and-"   
  
"Bullshit." Dave hissed, and Bro bit his lip. "You're blaming a puppet, Bro. A fucking PUPPET for your dumbass neglective tendencies. What's next, you were being mind controlled? A puppet decided to say, 'hey Bro let's fucking slice your damn son and leave him on the roof to throw up and dehydrate, that will be fun!'"   
  
Bro flinched back slightly as Dave jabbed a pale finger in his chest, bright red eyes shining with tears. His heart ached as he watched his son cry. 'He thinks I hate him. I caused this.'   
  
"We all know you hate me, why don't you fucking stop being so vague all the damn time and MAN UP!" Dave yelled, breathing in short bursts of air. 'He's having a panic attack. Oh shit what do I do what do I do?'   
  
David led Dave to the couch and instructed him to breathe. Dirk was giving him a weird look before bringing out a puppet. It looked soft and plush, with sloppy sewing and emerald eyes. He vaguely recalled knowing that puppet from his own childhood, only with a bit more dirt and the stuffing flying everywhere while kids ruined it.   
  
Dirk pushed it in his hands, cheeks turning rosy as he mumbled that Bro needed it more than he did.   
  
"It was the first puppet I ever made. I figured you would have made it too, and it should give you something to hold on to." Dirk said. Bro gingerly held the puppet close, dropping the towel to clutch it close.   
  
"Thank you." He muttered, starting when Davids katana was suddenly pointed right in his face.   
  
"Such good that lying did, Bro. Derrick." Bro stared up into Davids eyes anxiously while David shot him a cruel grin. "Did your little friends in foster care call you Dick? Makes sense, huh?"   
  
Bro flinched, recalling five year old him wailing alone in the playground, big golden eyes spilling out tears while his lip bled.   
  
"I talked to Roxanne, you know. And Mister Harley. And Nanna. They all told me of your assholish tenancies. Roxanne told me how you broke her heart, something you do lately. What is your excuse, Dick?"   
  
Bro clutched the doll tighter, unable to answer through the lump in his throat.   
  
  
'Your fault your fault you're such a fuck up kill yourself you need to die- '  
  
"I'm gay. I don't- she was drunk and she forced herself on me and I cant look at her-"   
  
  
"You fucking raped her?"   
  
"No no no I would never-"   
  
"Bro! Stop being an ass and leave him alone!" Dirk pulled David away. "It's one thing to be mad, it's another to accuse someone of rape, man. Not cool." Dirks voice was calm, but anger lied underneath the chill baritone of his voice.   
  
"You're right Dirk. Sorry."   
  
Bro was staring at the scene, eyes wide and throat constricting as he fought back tears.   
  
'You don't deserve to cry you fucker, man up!'   
  
Bro breathed deeply, trying hard to stay calm. "Get out of my face Bro, I don't want to see you until I say otherwise." David hissed.   
  
Bro could only nod, trying hard not to run to the only room in the house.  
  
||||||||…||||||||  
  
  
It has been 4 hours, and everyone is asleep.   
  
Bro curled up under the blankets of Daves old bed, trying to will away his hunger. It hurt his stomach, and his whole body was trying to tell him to go to sleep. He couldn't sleep at all though, staring at the wall where a shitty katana was hung up and taunting him.   
  
  
It was pretty, he noticed absently. Shiny and begging to be the cause of bloodshed. Crawling out of bed, he scratched his arms slowly, nails digging into pale flesh. He picked up the katana, turning it gingerly in his hands while examining the shiny metal.   
  
He slid down the wall, rolling up the pant legs of his now oversized sweatpants. His pale thighs were already littered in thin lines, dark brown and healing. Despite having done this a million times, Bro had to brace himself before inflicting the first cut of the night.   
  
He flicked the tip of the katana, the sharp blade slicing open the skin like a hot knife through butter. Bro hissed, sucking in a quick breath of air befire doing it again. Getting this relief made him realize how tired he was, he thought as he drew a letter on his leg.   
  
The blood dripped into the carpet as Bro sliced through many healing cuts in the midst of his spelling. It hurt. It hurt so bad, but he couldn't stop. There was something so relieving in knowing the blood was his own and not Daves. He moved into his other leg, the flawless smooth skin untouched by the hellish object.   
  
"D." He spoke softly, carving out the letter.   
  
"I." The blade slid through the skin smoothly.   
  
"E." He murmured, tears dripping onto his scars and burning them. He dropped the katana and leaned against the door, not even jumping when he heard the door open.   
  
"Hey Bro." Dirks voice sounded throughout the otherwise empty room.   
  
"I knew you'd be hungry. I made you some ramen and  kool-aid. I hope it- what the fuck?"   
  
Dirks shocked face was barley registered through his cloudy thoughts.   
  
"Thnkss..." Bro slurred, blinking slowly at the younger Strider who set the food down. Dirks soft hands cradled his face, and Bro felt his tears fall faster.   
  
"Bro..."   
  
"I didn't wanna die... it was a mistake... help me?" Bro slurred, lurching forward with uncoordinated movements as he tried to reach for the first aid.   


 

 

 

"It's okay Bro, I'll take care of you."  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't be fooled, the happiness isn't gonna start so soon 
> 
> I'm an author that loves to torture my main characters


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Later on, after dozing off, you happen to just not care about how you ended up at the bottom of the Strider dogpile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short and rushed chapter sorry
> 
> I normally post long ones, I just tried to force myself through writers block 
> 
> Please tell me my typos
> 
> I'm getting nervous about posting pesterlogs *dies*
> 
> I may be adding illustrations later on
> 
> :^

You don't know what to do.  
  
The next months were hard, but Dave and D are set on giving Bro a hell of a hard time, but you feel as if its unfair.  
  
Dave told you he would never want anyone to feel the way he felt with Bro... but why is he being such a contradicting asshole?  
  
 Between handling the fact that you ruined your friendships and trying to make sure Bro doesn't break, you're beginning to feel stressed.  
  
Your own stress has you locking yourself in the bathroom while leaving Bro to fend for himself. You feel as if you are tearing at the seams, and you often find yourself curled into a ball in the bathtub while shaking.  
  
  
During one of these times, you hear Bro opening the bathroom door and stumbling in after an unfair strife. You startle, and your orange eyes meet wide golden ones. Bro hunches his shoulders, poker face intact as he begins to stitch his wounds. You slowly stand, wincing as you notice the elder begin to tense.  
  
"I... I have to speak to David about this. I don't really think they are being fair." You spoke, watching as Bro tugs harshly at a stitch. You wince, not understanding how he can do that. "Have you eaten at all lately?"  
  
"It doesn't matter."  
  
His voice is deep and gruff, his eyes guarded as he watches you. "Nothin matters no more. Stop the worryin, Dirk. It's done, so you can move on and stop tryin to force yourself to care. I deserve whatever is happening to me." He says lowly, patching up his arm.  
  
"I wasn't-"  
  
"Dirk. I've had a bad day. M'Sorry if I hurt you, I would like some time alone... please."  
  
You nod, walking out of the bathroom where you see Dave and D speaking to each other. You cross your arms and clear your throat loudly, getting their attention.  
  
"Y'all are such assholes."  
  
  
||||||||^^^^^^^||||||||  
  
Dirk has been ignoring you lately.  
  
  
You decided it was because of how the stress must be wearing on his shoulders. You don't blame him, you are quite the handful.  
  
Since last week, you have put on your douchey and emotionless facade again. You to through the day without shedding a single, pathetic tear. You haven't cried since your 'suicide.'  
  
Despite that, you don't even feel like you have emotions at all anymore. You just... go through the day as if nothing is important anymore.  
  
Maybe you're right, and nothing matters at all.  
  
|||||…|||||  
  
  
You encountered Dirk yesterday. You told him to leave you alone, and that you'll talk to him soon.  
  
Something was off today, though.  
  
Dave nudged you awake today, holding a plate of pancakes. Which was odd, because he doesn't ever really eat much other than ramen. Also, pancakes are your absolute favorite, and why would he make your favorite food.  
  
He sat beside you, putting the food on the bedside table. He flopped beside you, squirming his way into your arms and tucking his head under your chin. You hesitated, wondering if you should hug back or not. Then he statyed crying.  
  
'Gah, fuck it.' You thought, hugging your little brother gently. He was crying dammit, you gotta make him feel better.  
  
"I'm so sorry." He hiccuped, rubbing his face against the dark maroon of your sleep shirt. "I was- I didn't-"  
  
"Its okay." You heard yourself murmur. And it was, because Dave is your lil bro. He doesn't know half the shit he's doing, and he's learning from his mistakes. He doesn't understand much yet, and you'd forgive him no matter what he did anyways.  
  
You rubbed his back and stared at the wall in front of you, absently murmuring some shit or another. You both jumped when the door opened, and David appeared in a sleep shirt and sweatpants.  
  
Soon, you were engulfed under the embrace of two David Striders, and you couldn't find it in you to tell them to move because you needed to piss.  
  
You glanced up in the doorway to see a smiling Dirk, bags under his highlight orange eyes but genuine pride in his eyes.  
  
Later on, after dozing off, you happen to just not care about how you ended up at the bottom of the Strider dogpile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I make a separate story on the talk Dirk had with the Daves? 
> 
> Onto the actual plot of the story in incoming chapters! With the stridercest and all
> 
> Im sorry that this is rushed, but I don't have any excuses other than I am half asleep and deciding to hurry up with pre-angst before the actual PTSD thing kicks in. 
> 
> So. 
> 
> Yeah. 
> 
> The story gets better and the chapters get longer I swear


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What?! Takeout!? 
> 
> David shot you an incredulous look across the room, and your cheeks suddenly got warm. "Uhh... well.. yeah..." You grunted uncertainly, raising an eyebrow over your shades. 
> 
> David pulled out a jar of Alfredo sauce, causing the other two boys painting each others nails to perk up. 
> 
> "Well, Derrick, today is your lucky day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dirk, Dave, your gay is showing. 
> 
> It is 'lets all scare Bro' day
> 
> Tell me typos or POV changes please!

Waking up with arms around you is quite possibly one of the most unexpected situations you've been in.   
  
  
You woke up with your face pressed against a boney chest and your legs tangled with lanky ones. Slowly gathering your thoughts together, you glance up to see the face of David. He looked so relaxed and peaceful, so you used your totally ironic ninja skills to slip out of his arms. You squinted at him, making sure he was asleep before deeming him certain to be unconscious.   
  
Pleased with your ninja escapades, you give yourself a mental pat on the back before turning around-  
  
And screaming in terror before stumbling backwords, knocking into the edge of the bed and falling onto David. Damn... there goes all your hard work, eh?   
  
Your bitter train of thought is disrupted by the sound of someone snorting, and you grumbled as you caught Daves eyes.   
  
"Yeah yeah, you away you shit." You muttered unhappily, moving to stand up before being halted by long arms wrapping around your (still fairly muscled) torso, dragging you back onto the bed with surprising strength.   
  
You kept your cool, proud that you didn't flinch and start screaming at the feeling of Davids arms.   
  
"Bro, stay. It's too early..." he whined, face pressing into your side. You shifted uncomfortably, shoving your shades onto your face.   
  
"It's 10 am."   
  
"Early."   
  
"Shower?"   
  
"Earlyyy..."   
  
"David."   
  
"Noooo...."   
  
You arched an eyebrow, and David cracked open an eye.   
  
"Hey D, Dirk made pancakes." Dave piped up, still smirking in amusement at the doorway of the room.   
  
You watched in mild surprise as David gave you one last squeeze before haphazardly rolling off the bed. David the threw on some sweatpants before dashing out the room, not even brushing his teeth. "Yo Dirk, hit me up with some of them pancakes-!"   
  
You tensed slightly as you was pulled into a rather unwelcome staring duel between with Dave. Dave huffed, before turning around and walking down the hall. Breathing a slight sigh of relief, you gathered up a sweatshirt and pants before shuffling to the bathroom.  
  
|||||||…|||||||  
  
"Bro, you aren't going to eat?"   
  
You started, dropping your shirt and nearly tripping over a water puddle as you whirled around in surprise. David raised an eyebrow, arms crossed in a chill manner.   
  
"Um.."   
  
"Dirk made you some pancakes. They've been sitting there for like, an hour dude."   
  
You tensed up again, muttering a soft 'oh' guiltily. Davids eyebrows rose even higher, and you felt thoroughly intimidated. You struggled to throw on your ironic facade last minute.   
  
"I uh, I didn't know." You blurted out. Davids' posture was still relaxed as he smirked at you lazily. "Well, go eat then dude."   
  
"I'm not quite hungry."   
  
"I don't quite give a fuck." David mocked, but he still looked carefree, so you weren't so nervous.   
  
"Cmon Bro, eat."   
  
Instantly, Bro nodded quickly as he scampered out of the bathroom quickly. David blinked in confusion, before shrugging and heading back out.   
  
||||||||…||||||||  
  
David was not so happy to learn that your kitchen has not been used properly for over 20 years.   
  
"What?! Takeout!?   
  
David shot you an incredulous look across the room, and your cheeks suddenly got warm. "Uhh... well.. yeah..." You grunted uncertainly, raising an eyebrow over your shades.   
  
David pulled out a jar of Alfredo sauce, causing the other two boys painting each others nails to perk up.   
  
"Well, Derrick, today is your lucky day."   
  
You felt a hand on your leg, and you look down to see orange painted nails gripping onto your calf. "It's chicken Alfredo day...." Dirk whispered, like he was telling you some big secret. You nodded slowly, watching him slink away like a snake.   
  
You decided he reminded you of Rose, in a creepy way that send shivers down your spine.   
  
>>>>>>   
  
You have never, in your 37 years of life, tasted such good food.   
  
You would be embarrassed at your happy moan, but you're too busy shoveling the delicious creamy noodles down your throat.   
  
"Enjoying it, Bro?"   
  
You glanced up to see David smirking at you twirling his fork idly while watching you eat like a pig.   
  
Fuck it, you decided, nodding eagerly at the blonde across the table. You continued to eat quickly, only slowing down when you neared the end of your plate.   
  
You insisted on doing the dishes, and for a moment you felt normal. Happy, even. As if you weren't a fucked up man who technically was brain controlled for 21 years.  
  
Of course, you knew it wouldn't last. But you decided to milk it out as long as you could, devouring any affection thrown at you like a sex starved incubus. You practically thrived off of praise, and you will do absolutely anything to make your guests happy. You live off of praise, you _want_  to be good.   
  
You will do anything to make these other Striders happy.   
  
  
Absolutely anything.   
  
  
No exceptions. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this is better than the last chapter? 
> 
> My tumblr is aaaand-tylers-at-it-again


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxannes' pistol laid on the floor under a limp pale hand, fingers flexing feebly around a crumpled note. 
> 
> Dirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: suicide attempt. Also, look! New tags!

Dave is still scared of you.  
  
  
You aren't surprised, not at all. A little hurt, maybe. Just a bit guilty.  
  
Who are you kidding? You're a wreck.  
  
You aren't sure how you're even responsive to things. All you really know what to do is speak and wander around. You've stopped responding to the rest of the Striders, mainly because you've been feeling quite empty. You had so much of Cal in your soul that there was hardly even a glimpse of Derrick  "Dirk" Strider that existed over 20 years ago.  
  
You look at the way Dirk interacts with David and it makes you wonder. Maybe if you just fucking listened to Rox and tossed the stupid puppet away, you would get along with Dave like that. Maybe you would have accepted that scholarship and have sold robots instead of sex toys. But no, now you have no friends. No friends or family, not anymore.  
  
Davids voice snapped you out if your train of thought, making you realize the wetness trailing down your face. He reached out to touch you, and you flinched violently. He doesn't really want to help you. He wants to make you think that everything is okay and then tear you down. Just like Rox, he's going to be your best friend and then vanish when you screw up.  
  
Not quite listening to whatever he's saying, you venture to the twins room and collapse into a heap on Daves bed. You kinda tuned everyone out, slipping into a deep sleep.  
  
\-----  
  
"Rox, _please_."  
  
"Dirk.... you know I can't stay."  
  
" _Why not_?"  
  
"Because! Dirky, I can't stay because you... you.."  
  
"What, Rox? Fucked up? Self destructive? Not enough? Please Roxanne, I'll do anything.."  
  
Soft hands, touching your face and stroking your jawline, wiping away a traitorous tear.  
  
"I love you, Dirk. You're not straight, and you're getting aggressive. If this is how it's like, then I can't stay. Also, I have a really good degree. Really good. I swear, I'll come back. I promise."  
  
".... really... really promise me Rox. I can't fucking live without you, you're the only one I have left. Please?"  
  
"Promise."  
  
"-irk? Dirk!"  
  
You gasped, lurching up and knocking into someone hovering over you. You groaned, rolling over and curling up.  
  
"G'away..." You grunted quietly, before jumping when a soft hand landed on your shoulder.  
  
"You should really stop worrying your brothers Dirky."  
  
You jumped, shooting up into a sitting position. You turned around and saw familiar pink eyes. "R-Roxanne?"  
  
Rox smiled, eyes sad as she looked over you. Fuck, you probably look like shit. You felt an embarrassed flush make its way up your neck.  
  
  
"I-Uh. Sup?"  
  
A giggle bubbled out of her as she threw herself at you. You flinched hard, but struggled to hug back anyways. You look over her shoulder to see David looking at you with a weird expression on his face. You focused back on the hug you're in.  
  
It was actually really nice. Warm, and she was soft too. You felt like you were a kid again, and you relished in the warmth. You're starting to love these hugs, damn.  
  
"You need to eat more, you goober."  
  
"Sorry Rox, I got robots to build, no time for food."  
  
"Lies."  
  
"True."  
  
\-----  
  
Dinner was awkward. You stared at your plate while David watched you to make sure you actually. Dave really liked Rox though. The two made jokes and pretty much avoided the topic of Sburb, but you noticed Dirk staring at his plate with his jaw clenched. You knew that expression really well, though.  
  
You watched as he pulled out his phone before jumping when he absconded. The table went quiet, and dinner went on with simply the clatter of tableware.  
  
You didn't see Dirk once the remainder of the week.  
  
\-----  
  
  
_BANG_  
  
You swore, jumping and falling out of bed. Who the fuck is shooting shit at fucking 4 in the goddamned morning. You roll in bed, hoping to catch some shut eye, before hearing a scream. Your eyes snapped open.  
  
Rox.  
  
You stumbled out of the room over to the bathroom, where Rox was standing with her hands covering her mouth in shock. You gently pushed her aside, a hard tremor coursing through you at the sight of orange eyes going in and out of focus. Roxannes' pistol laid on the floor under a limp pale hand, fingers flexing feebly around a crumpled note.  
  
Dirk. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you didn't see that comin.
> 
>  
> 
> IMMA SLUT FOR COMMENTS


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TT: i can-
> 
> TT: MESSAGE NOT SENT
> 
> TT: i dont know where im at
> 
> TT: SYSTEMS ERROR. PLEASE STAND BY. 
> 
> TT2: what the fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we actually go deeper into sburb bullshit! Depressing chapters are coming to a close, yall. Pesterlogs will be colored soon I promise. 
> 
> Edit: pesterlogs colored! 
> 
> BE AWARE THAT I AM GOING TO CHANGE THE SUMMARY OF THIS STORY TO SUIT IT MORE. THIS STORY TOOK A WAY DIFFERENT TURN THAN ORIGINALLY PLANNED.

Your name is DIRK STRIDER, and you have no friends. At least, you consider them your friends, but they don't really like you.  
  
3 years ago, if someone told you that they didn't like you, you probably would have laughed in their face.  
  
Wait, scratch that, you would have believed them. To a lesser extent, though.  
  
It happened before dinner, one day. You were talking to Roxy, when Hal opened a separate window to talk to you.  
  


timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering  timaeusTestified [TT2]

TT: Dirk.  
  
TT: I know you see my messages.  
  
TT: It's urgent.  
  
TT2: What do you want, Hal.  
  
TT: I was snooping through some chat logs  
  
TT2: Like always?  
  
TT: -And I saw that your so called 'friends' may potentially be betraying you.  
  
TT2: What?  
  
"Dirk?"  
  
You looked up, seeing Dave gesturing for you to go to the kitchen.  
  
"Dinner."  
  
\------  
  
Dinner was awkward. You felt Bro glancing at you, and you felt his worry. He shouldn't worry about you. He was always stressed or depressed, he needed to be worried about. No one seemed willing to do the job but you, and he hasn't been getting better at all lately.  
  
It's your fault you're fucked up. He shouldn't worry.  
  
Your phone buzzed as Hal sent you screenshots of a memo between your friends. A memo you never knew about.  
  
  
GT: I just!  
  
GT: I cannot stand him sometimes honestly.  
  
GG: Jake, I thought you two got over this?  
  
GT: Not at all!  
  
TG: guys.... this ain't a good idea...  
  
TG: plus what did dirky even do 2 u??????  
  
GT: Hes been thinking that we were all dandy now but he doesnt need us anymore since he has his brothers  
  
GT: Hes being clingy! Im honestly quite sick of it!  
  
GG: Oh I don't know... he's not bad.  
  
GT: Janey dear  
  
GT: You know how he tried to keep us apart! Do you not think that is slightly... oh darn, i dont know... not what youd want in a friend?  
  
GG: Well...  
  
TG: omg u guys  
  
TG: i can't believe  
  
TG: u guys are togTHER?  
  
TG: omg  
  
TG: i cant believe you would do this to dirk  
  
GT: Oh dear, youre typing coherently.  
  
GG: Roxy please!  
  
TG: omg  
  
TG: oh my gog  
  
TG: no  
  
TG: fuck you  
  
  
  
TT: Dirk? Listen to me and don't do anything stupid.  
  
TT: Dirk?  
  
  
You stood up, and left the table.  
  
  
\------  
  
It hurt.  
  
You took a small comfort in knowing Roxy didn't want to take part of that, but she didn't tell you.  
  
You couldn't believe that you read that. The first two days you spent curled up under your blankets, trembling. You reread the logs, feeling like Hal was fucking with you. It had to be a joke. It HAD to be.  
  
You finally accepted it when Roxy confirmed the conversation.  
  
Of course, you turned to the only coping mechanism that you usually use when you have a breakdown: self flagellation and scratching.  
  
By the end of the week, your entire body was covered in scratch marks, dried blood crusted over your fingernails. It's all your fault. You don't deserve friends, you're a Prince of Heart. Destined for years of isolation to come.  
  
It's then that you decided you didn't want to be isolated. You didn't want to be alone. You don't have any friends, they wouldn't care if you died. Perhaps they even want you dead. You are so sick of living with self hatred, you can't focus on anything happy.  
  
The pistol reminded you of Jake. It weighed heavy and cold in your shaking hand, and you felt so weak you could hardly pull the trigger. You weren't even paying attention to where the bullet went, but it did the trick. Your only lifeline was a crumpled note you hastily scribbled down, and you felt accomplished.  
  
You passed out to the sight of wide golden eyes searching your own.  
  
  
||||||||…|||||||||  
  
Your name is D STRIDER, and you haven't really felt this sick since that one time you ate bad sushi.  
  
Bro was the epitome of stress, wringing his hands together (they got thinner, you noticed idly) while murmuring about how he should have noticed. You got him, man. You felt like shit too. How could you have not noticed your own kid felt like shit? That he was depressed and covered from head to toe in painful scratch marks?  
  
Dave was curled in a ball in a hospital chair, on his phone. He only looked up when the doctor came in. "Strider?"

You stood up. "That's us."  
  
The doctor nodded. "Right this way, sirs." Bro followed immediately like a lost puppy, which you thought was admittedly kind of endearing. The doctor opened the door and gestured for you to go inside. Dirk was wide awake, tears streaking his face making his bright orange eyes seem to glow.  
  
"You fucking doofus." Dave growled, yanking Dirk into a hug. Dirks hands were trembling and thin, gripping Daves shirt loosely. You slowly walked up to them, watching Dirk hiccup.  
  
"I-hic- failed at the easiest-hic- thing and its no wonder my friends don't like me." You swear your heart just broke. His voice took on a devastated wail, something so emotional that you yanked off your shades and joined the hug. Bro didn't like being touched though, so you figured he'd get his share of hugs once you and Dave let go of the trembling blonde below you.  
  
Bros hand rested on your shoulder giving you another rush of affection that most likely wasn't as platonic as you'd like. You and Dave released him as Bro sat beside Dirk, hugging him quietly. Dirk was calming down, and you decided it was a good time to ask some questions.  
  
Dave beat you to it, though. "Why?"  
  
Dirk tried to hide in Bros shoulders, taking a while before answering. "I thought it wouldn't matter." He murmured quietly, sounding ashamed. Dave laughed coldly, making Dirk flinch. You grabbed Daves arm gently and shook your head at him. Dave inhaled slowly, before sighing.  
  
Bro decided to speak up next. "What happened. At the dinner table, I mean." His voice was deadpan, but you knew he struggled with emotions so he always sounded like he didn't care. It was okay, though. You knew he meant the best.  
  
Dirk hunched up, before fiddling with his phone. It took a while, but soon Dirk showed you a few screenshots.  
  
You couldn't describe the rage that built up in you. How could they? Dirk grew up isolated and they called him clingy? His ex is dating the girl that Dirk thought was on his side? You gave props to Roxy, though. She was a good kid.  
  
To say Dave was fuming was an understatement. Before he can speak though, a message beeped on Dirks phone.  
  
  
TT: HRLP  
  
TT: HELP  
  
TT: DIRK  
  
TT: i can-  
  
TT: MESSAGE NOT SENT  
  
TT: i dont know where im at  
  
TT: SYSTEMS ERROR. PLEASE STAND BY.  
  
TT2: what the fuck

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anticipation 
> 
> Please report pov changes or typos! I'm a slut for comments please feed me


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter yet? 
> 
> I love Hal, Jegus fuck.

Your name is JOHN EGBERT, and you think that today is a good day to witness your two green-loving siblings scream at each other. You currently have an arm wrapped around Jane as Jade and Jake argue loudly, Jake waving around his phone and Jade jabbing a finger into his chest. You can't understand what they are yelling about, but your phone buzzes loudly to catch your attention.   
  
You give Jane a tight squeeze and a small smile before absconding the fuck out of there. You decide to take a walk and answer a few messages that have been piling up in your pesterchum. Well, maybe. You are a man who appreciates the nature, after all. If you take a walk, you are less likely to walk around on your phone and more likely to enjoy the scenery.   
  
You shove your hands in your pockets and appreciate the gusts of wind blowing around you, relaxing slowly as you continue your walk down the sidewalk. Reaching the woods around the park, though, you think you hear a noise.  
  
Years of sburb have taught you to not dismiss random noises as 'nothing.' You involuntarily tense up and listen closely. Fast, hard breathing is heard somewhere behind a tree. You decide to start walking away when a choked sob and the rustle of leaves is heard.   
  
'Jeez, I am probably gonna get myself caught in a lot of bullshit if I confront a kidnapped person.' You thought solemnly, but slowly walked to the tree. You peeked around to catch the sight of soft looking white hair and wide ruby eyes, a familiar face morphed into the face of a child.   
  
"Jegus fuck, Hal?"   
  
Hal makes a strangled noise and twitches freakishly, a soft wail of dismay rising from his throat as his hands clutch at a dark pair of pointed shades. His body was short with the chubbiness of a 9 year old, and it disturbed you to see his eyes filled with tears. To be honest, you've heard about him plenty of times before. But to your knowledge, literally no ine but Jade, Roxy, and occasionally Dirk found him pleasant to talk to.   
  
You jump out of your skin when he suddenly stops moving, but before you can freak out his small voice stopped you in your tracks. "You.. c'n lea' now...." he whispered, tears slowly dripping down his face but his mouth twisted into a frown. It occurs to you that you have found him, hyperventilating, but have just stared at him. You punch yourself, mentally of course, and think 'Way to go John, you butt.'   
  
"No, dude, I and pretty dang sure you don't know how to work your new human body. I can't just leave you here!" You say brightly, trying to cheer him up. A child, no matter how mature, is always cheered up by someone elses mood. Maybe you can give a positive attitude and hopefully help him out. You do feel sorry for the little guy, he's technically an eight or nine year old with no one to pay attention to him and give a shit.   
  
"I should probably tell D-"   
  
"No need. I 'lready 'ried.... he's in th' hospi'al..." Hal mumbled softly. You made a noise of realization. So that is what your siblings were arguing about, huh? You shrugged, before taking off your sweater and wrapping it around his shivering body. He shreiked a little as you hoisted him into your arms, his hands gripping at your biceps tightly. You laughed before beginning to walk home. Might as well take him to Dirk instead.   
  
\----- Pov switch-----  
  
  
"Stop being such an asshole!"   
  
"It wasn't my fault, I am tired of it being my fault!"   
  
"Newsflash, you jerk, it actually is-"   
  
"Ahaaa, and this is where I intervene!!! Guys, meet my new buddy, Hal. Hal, say hi!" John slid in between his siblings, gripping the mostly motionless child in his arms. Jake sputtered indignantly as he caught sight of the miserable face of a bored Hal.   
  
"No." He muttered, curling up more. John beamed. "That's the spirit! Now I'm gonna steal Jakes Jeep, just thought I'd swing by and steal the keys too. Bye!" John reached into Jakes pocket, plucked out a pair of keys, before flouncing off to the Jeep. He set Hal in the back seat. "If I get pulled over, tell them you're ten, capice?"   
  
"Mhmmm..."   
  
"Great. Okay, lets see if I remember how to drive a car... "  
  
\-----Pov switch----  
|||||||…|||||||  
  
Your name is Dirk Strider, and you are a bit wierded out. You ponder the messages Hal sent you even as Dave and D yell at you for doing what you did, instead chosing to watch Bro and Mom Lalonde talk softly amongst themselves. Your heart clenched painfully. Your own friends... Roxy would have kept it a secret if you didn't find out.. your fingers gripped the blanket tightly as you looked down and let your eyes trace the pattern of the blankets.  
  
You don't realize how long it had been until you hear the door open and Johns voice break the steady talking of the television and D rambling. At the sound of Mom gasping and a soft sneeze from someone you don't recognise, you look up to see John offering a kid a tissue. The kid looked a bit sickly, but the dark shades resting on the kids face immediately caught your attention. The kid was also being carried.   
  
"Hal?" You asked slowly, watching John set him down in a spare chair. Hal rubbed his nose, his soft hair falling his face as he shivered in Johns jacket. "John, honey, get him some food from the cafeteria please? He may not have a good blood sugar." Mom said sweetly, handing John a ten dollar bill. John beamed at her before walking off.   
  
Hal observed you quietly before he let out a tiny scoff and shook his head. "I knew you wouldn't listen to me." He said quietly, his words slurred together as if he maybe hasn't learned just how to talk. You frowned as he continued to talk. "You never listen to me. You never listen to my advice, you never listened to what I had to say because I-" Hal cut himself off, and you watched with a tiny rise of concern as his eyes misted over. His face, (a child face, round and filled with a little bit of baby fat) contorted angrily as he looked down at his feet covered in a pair of blue socks. "Because I wasn't real. Because I couldn't do anything if you didn't listen to me, like punch you in the face when you're being dumb."   
  
You allowed yourself to smile at his hidden concern, bit it fell just as quickly as it came. Hal was distressed, you could see how he wanted to stand up yet couldn't because he barley even knew how to talk. He could sit and move his arms around, but his feet were useless. Bro stood up and walked to Hal, who looked a little intimidated by how tall the elder was. Wordlessly, Bro picked him up and brought him over to you. As soon as Hal was set down, you grabbed him and pulled him to your chest.   
  
Technically, Hal is supposed to be your kid. You created him with your own hands, your own mind, your own tools. You realized how scared he was by how tight he gripped onto you, his shaking frem trying to bury himself in your hug.   
  
He's touch starved just like you.   
  
  
You think you'll both be okay with each other, no dumb crushes in the way.   
  
Of course, that had to change when you locked eyes with the most amazing person on earth.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who might this lovely person be? Look at the tags you nerds.


End file.
